


Spring Forward, Fall Back (into someone's arms)

by gala_apples



Category: Macdonald Hall - Gordon Korman
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:43:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cathy brings Diane home for spring vacation with the hope to distract from awkward conversations. Seeing as the first words out of Diane's mouth are the lie that she's Cathy's girlfriend, it's a truly futile hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Forward, Fall Back (into someone's arms)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintilla10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/gifts).



Cathy scowls at the half packed suitcase on her bed. She doesn’t like going home for the holidays. For all the small pros, there’s that one looming con that nothing can make up for. 

Thankfully she’s not alone in the feeling. All over the school there are girls getting ready to go home, reluctant for one reason or another. Diane’s parents are both card carrying members of the Reform Party. Emma- Scrimmage’s version of Chris, except better because she has none of the reluctance Bruno’s friends tend to show- has parents who think art is a waste of a life that could be spent making money. Mei has a townie boyfriend that sneaks in at least once a week whom she’ll be separated from, and they can’t keep in touch on the phone because her dad has no idea he exists. Nor is it a novel concept on the other side of the highway. Bruno’s parents only see the dishwashing and garbage duty, they don’t see the ambition or the heart. Boots thinks he can’t live up to his parents expectations, and the handful of nice words in that letter during the pool adventure didn’t do enough, meant or not. And she’s pretty sure Wilbur’s parents have accused him of having an eating disorder.

The truth is there’s wisdom in the statement that you don’t go to boarding school if there isn’t something you need to get away from. 

“Stupid spring break,” Cathy mutters at the crushed velvet lining of the suitcase. She doesn’t mean for Diane to hear her, but of course she does. Cathy can tell because she’s stopped actually typing, just hovers her fingers over the typewriter keys like she doesn’t want to interrupt. 

“Problem?”

“Nothing new. I just hate spring vacation. You know why.”

“Yeah. Your parents want you in on the family business.” Diane pauses, then continues in a more inquisitive tone. “What do your parents even do? I don’t think you’ve actually told me.”

“It’s a farm. And at Christmas it’s not so bad. It’s all about the holiday, mostly. But with spring break there’s no distracting event. It’s just two weeks of ‘you need to work on your skill set Catherine’.” Once she’s finished making a bevy of quotation marks in the air she drops her arms over her chest to cross her arms.

Diane shrugs. “I’ll be the event.”

“What?”

“I’ll come home with you. I’ve already got the money to train home. I’ll just go with you instead of going there. I bet it takes them a full day to notice I’m not there anyway. From the hints Karen dropped in her last letter she’s either getting married to Patrick, they’re having a kid, or they’re getting married because she’s having a kid. Whatever it is, I’d rather miss it.” She shrugs again. “Would you want me to come?”

That doesn’t even deserve to be considered a question. “I want you to come. And it’s not like I’m dragging you somewhere bad. You might even like it. My brothers are all going to follow in the family footsteps. It’s just not for me.”

“Doesn’t matter if I like it. Like I haven’t done a hundred stupid, potentially awful things because you and Bruno are insane. Just this time it’s my idea.”

And with Diane it’s just as easy as that. Twenty four hours later they’re in the cab they got at the station. The fare is going to be insanely high, a product of winding country roads, but there’s nothing else for it. Cathy didn’t even bother to find a payphone to ask for a ride. Her parents are busy. They work the farm just as much as her brothers or the handful of paid employees.

Cathy takes a breath to stabilize herself when the cabbie pulls to a stop in the long driveway. She could use a drink from that mickey she won during the last poker night. Hell, she could use another Scrimmage-wide poker night. Diane pats Cathy’s knee, then reaches for her shoes, which have slid halfway under the front seat. One of the million things Cathy likes about her is how much she hates socks and shoes. Diane takes her shoes off during class, at Macdonald Hall, even takes them off in buses and cars. Any time she can be stationary for more than five minutes her shoes come off. Apparently nasty grey socks are the price to pay for comfort.

Diane’s hand stills on the door handle when she gets her first real glance out the window. The situation is pretty clear; there’s only one good reason for a small house beside such a massive barn. She twists back to Cathy eyebrows raised and asks “you know there’s a difference between farming and dragonfarming, right?”

“Of course there’s a difference. Every other farmer grows something useful. Meat, or eggs, or fruit, even wool. My family grows luxury items. People need bacon, they don’t need a dress made out of shed skin.”

“Don’t be a party pooper until I’ve at least seen them. Wait. Does this mean you could have helped Elmer with his Manchurian Bush Dragon breeding project?”

“There are like a hundred different breeds. My family only raises six.” There’s a hundred and forty two, actually. And maybe she could have offered advice. Except she left to get away from dragons. Besides, Elmer probably would have been bummed to have one of his science projects usurped, if he’s anything like Mary-Lou.

Cathy pays the cab driver and lugs her suitcase out of the trunk. If it was up to her she’d rather just settle into her room and figure out a way to share the space with Diane. There’s a hell of a lot of difference between sharing a two bed dorm room and a one bed bedroom with sixteen years of history. But she can see her mom sitting on the porch swing, dung covered boots firmly planted on the worn wood. Clearly there will be a talk in the very near future that’ll divert her from her private concerns.

“You look up the train schedule?”

Mom ignores her question, as is her right as a parent. Instead she asks her own. “Who’s this, then?”

Before Cathy has a chance to introduce her, Diane says “Diane Grant. Cathy’s girlfriend.”

Cathy does her best to not choke on her tongue. It’s not like she doesn’t feel things. For that matter, she’s always sort of thought Diane feels things. But they’ve never talked about it. Cathy’s talked to Bruno and Ursula about it. Ursula is Scrimmage’s Dear Mrs Lonelyhearts, and Bruno’s in the same situation, just with outies instead of innies. But not Diane. Once they talk about it something will have to be done, and as head on as she is with most things, Cathy’s not quite ready for that bit of action.

“Cathy, that’s... You didn’t tell us.”

Cathy has two options. She can say just kidding and it will be just another prank she’s pulled. Alternatively, she can live this extremely awkward lie for two weeks. Blowing it off would probably end up hurting less. If she goes through with this her brothers will need proof, hand holding on the couch and the occasional kiss. If Diane _doesn’t_ have feelings, and she’s just doing it for show, it’ll kill her. The problem is if she declares this a prank Mom won’t believe her when she does bring home a real girlfriend. And that will cause enough drama to really spark a family feud.

Cathy plasters a chagrined smile on her face. “It seemed like the kind of thing you say face to face.”

“Well, pleased to meet you. We don’t have a guest room. Your choices are sleep in the guest house with the others, or on the floor in Catherine's room.”

“Thanks mom. I’ve got it covered.”

Diane’s staring at her as they walk inside. The first room is a mud room. More specifically, a dragon-fluid room. Half the pairs of shoes are covered in dragon shit, half the jackets in spit. Nothing gross gets to come inside the actual house. Cathy kicks off her shoes, careful to not step in any wet spots. Only when she’s past the mudroom, and her steps are safe, does she ask what the reason is.

“Want a list?”

“Go for it.”

“Guest house?”

“A dragon farm isn’t run on only two workers, with my brothers chipping in after school. A few of the employees rent rooms.”

“She thinks I’m your girlfriend and she’s letting me sleep in your room.”

Cathy laughs. “She knows we share a room. At this point the damage is done. Hypothetically.”

“Will the rest of your family take it that well?”

“Short answer no, long answer yes.”

“Huh?”

“That was my mom taking it badly. She’s a slow burn. So my brothers will be lame, and it won’t be like her, so no. But secretly she’s reacting the same way, so yes. It’ll still be better than your parents.”

“Yeah, well McCarthy would show more tolerance than my parents.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say on the floor in my bedroom, not a separate house with a bunch of middle aged men?” Inside her head Cathy issues a _thank you Mom_. Bed and floor just might save her sanity over the next two weeks.

“Yeah. I need to keep up appearances.”

“About that. Why?”

“It seemed like a good distraction.”

Cathy keeps her sigh bottled up. Stupid helpful Diane. She’s got no idea that the distraction is like a knife in the eye, and Cathy can’t exactly tell her.

“Oh, it will be. You can guarantee that. We’ll trade off on the sleeping bag, okay? I’ve slept on the floor more times than I can count.” Between girly sleepovers pre-Scrimmage, three brothers and a backyard, crashing Die In The Woods, and late night strategy sessions where all the girls are too exhausted to sneak back to their rooms, Cathy’s mastered falling asleep on hard surfaces.

Diane smiles. “Right. I’m toootally turning you down.”

Following Cathy’s cunning plan of staying in her room with the door locked, they manage to avoid everyone until dinner. Unfortunately avoiding that is not an option. Mom would pitch a fit if she didn’t eat with everyone. Cathy reluctantly goes, pulling Diane with her. Clomping down the stairs she’s last-minute strategising for some heavy passive aggression. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least if there were only six chairs at the table. In that case she’ll just tell Diane to sit on her lap. It might be a bit awkward, for her personal feelings as well as where to put their plates and cups, but it’ll still prove a point.

They go a different route. She and Diane are the last to the table, and the only chairs left are across from each other, not beside each other. That leaves Diane next to Franky, as Cathy falls on the grenade and sits between Davy and Jamie.

“So, you’re my sister’s girlfriend?”

Bless Diane, she matches his snootiness perfectly. “Yes. And you are?”

“That’s Franky. Ignore him, being the youngest taught him he could get any question answered if he asked it obnoxiously.”

Diane nods, cutting into her baked potato. “I get that. Victoria, my youngest sister, is like that.”

Jamie, friendly to the last inch -it’s a family joke he’d be friendly to Vlad The Impaler- asks “You have more than one?”

“Diane’s got five sisters,” Cathy answers for her as she reaches for the garlic butter. She doesn’t trust Jamie’s kindness. It’s just another form of interrogation. At least Franky is blatant.

“Makes sense. You leave a house full of women to go be around eight hundred. Guess you know where you fit.”

On the other hand, Franky is also a complete asshole. Cathy doesn’t punch him in the face though. The lesson on physical retribution was learned with a water pistol between Gloria Peabody’s eyes. Still, she wants to. The comment has just enough truth to hurt Diane. She’s at Scrimmages to be different from her sisters. Same reason she has a pet skunk.

After dinner there’s a tour of the farm. Cathy can tell the instant Diane sees her first dragon that she loves them. Cathy’s gotten pretty resigned to the idea that everyone will always love them, except her. Majesty, blah blah, fierce, blah blah. But Cathy’s not too concerned that Diane puts in an order for a dragon scale necklace. Diane won’t nag her to enter the field, not when she knows Cathy hates it. It might be used against her a little, her parents saying _but even your girlfriend likes them_ , but it won’t be coming from Diane, and Cathy’s gotten used to ignoring her parents.

It comes up later, of course. Diane’s not a nag, not even when Cathy’s about to do something potentially insane that Diane thinks she shouldn’t, but she does like her information. Cathy can practically hear Diane stop doing her homework. It’s nearing midnight, the lights are off and they’re both under the blankets, but she can still hear it.

“I don’t get why you don’t like it here. I mean your one brother is a jerk, but everyone with multiple siblings gets that. And Davy said he’s in film school, so it’s not just that you’re only allowed one career path.”

Cathy stares at the ceiling, imagining she can see a pattern in the popcorn treatment. “I think it’s mostly because being here reminds me of who I don’t want to be.”

“And Scrimmages doesn’t?”

Cathy shrugs. No doubt Diane can hear it, even if she can’t _hear_ it.

“Who do you want to be?”

Cathy closes her eyes. “The girl brave enough to say I love you?”

The zipper sliding apart is loud in the otherwise silent room. Next comes the shush of pyjama pants on the smooth surface of the waterproof bag. When Cathy dares to unclench her eyes Diane’s head is about a foot from the edge of her pillow. “We could be brave together, if you want.”

Cathy would really like to try that. She rolls to the very edge of the mattress and props herself up on her elbows. Diane doesn’t taste like she should; it’s all spearmint toothpaste. Still, Cathy’s been waiting years for this, ever since she got over her Jordie Jones phase. Artificial flavours can be forgiven. Especially when Diane kisses back, uncharacteristically enthusiastic. She even pushes a hand into her hair.

But it ends, and Diane is frowning. It's not quite a scowl, it's got more upset to it. “So? Girlfriends?”

“Wasn’t that an answer?”

Diane huffs. The gust of air ruffles her hair a bit, and Cathy imagines she feels the strands touch her nose. “You always do that. All action, no talk. Unless it’s rousing speeches, which is basically action anyway. You need to say it. For all I know that was some big stupid first and last kiss combo full of regret for a future we’ll never have. You need to-”

“Diane Grant, I want to date the hell out of you. And I want you to decide how we tell the guys. Because I bet you anything the girls will notice without being told, but boys are blind.”

“You want to do something big and crazy, don’t you?”

“i want him to be so confused he can’t even figure out how to start a committee.”

“I don’t think they’re allowed to anymore.”

Cathy laughs. They mindfucked two horrible people into getting married, and their only punishment was the boys not being allowed to form committees anymore. It’s one of her proudest moments. Top five, at least.

Diane grins wickedly. “We could bake Scrimmage a scrimcake that says ‘we’re lesbians’ in icing.”

Cathy laughs harder. Yeah. This is going to be great.


End file.
